


Time and Tide

by infinitrinx



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crew!Avengers, F/M, Pirate!Fury, Skinny!Steve, mermaid au, mermaid!Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4417142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitrinx/pseuds/infinitrinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time and Tide wait for no man. But they never said anything about a woman.</p><p>Loki escapes Atlantis justice only to be caught in another tangled net. Darcy is a swabbie on Captain Fury's ship. A tale of love found between the wandering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caught

**Author's Note:**

> HI!  
> This just came to mind and I couldn't resist making a mermaid AU. I love mermaid AUs. I can't get enough of them.  
> I have the rest of the chapters written out already, I'm just in a rush to go to tuition right now so I can't post them but yeah. See you soon.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Loki broke the surface of the water and quickly scanned his surroundings. The boundless expanse of dark, roiling sea kissed the star studded sky on the horizon.  
There were no vessels in sight. Good.  
He must not be seen, and it was a particularly risky move intentionally swimming into a human infested area.

But the risk was worth it. No sane merperson would actively venture into human territory. He was counting on the guards’ wariness to stop them from pursuing him.  
Perhaps Thor might try look for him. But mother had probably convinced the crown prince that Loki was a lost cause. Even Thor’s foolish loyalty ought to run dry sooner or later.

Relief lapped at him like the waves upon his chest and Loki allowed himself to relax- if only for a moment. His dark hair floated out to frame his chiselled face, illuminated by the twinkling of the stars on this clear night. They smiled down at him and he stared back at them. With the water cradling his body and the soothing hush of seafoam, the tide swept Loki back to a better time where mother ran her fingers through his tresses and her sweet melody drifted through the currents to sing in harmony with the whales.

Loki fingered the mother-of-pearl encrusted necklace strung around his neck. Here, floating in the rapids of far away memories, he was unsure of what was salt water and what was tears. Perhaps they were one and the same.

A net pulled him out of the waters of the past.  
A literal net.  
Around him, silver fish thrashed their desperation. The moonlight caught on his and their scales, making the moving mass around him seem to glitter. The coarse rope dug into Loki’s flesh and he cursed under his breath, peering out through the bars of his ropen cage.

Clutching the sides of the net so he wouldn’t be buried under the flailing mass of fish, Loki closed his eyes and focused his magic. It rushed into his veins with an intimate familiarity, like riverwater returning to a stream after a drought.  
He smiled.

* * *

“Oh Christ!” A male voice sounded.

Loki was thrown roughly onto the deck of the ship and untangled from the net. He let his body go limp, his breathing shallow. The frantic footfalls on the deck was followed by the same man’s voice yelling a distance away.

He snatched a glimpse of his surroundings from beneath his eyelashes, still too wary to risk movement, and was glad he had done so. A woman was peering at him from behind a mast. She had luminescent eyes as blue as the ocean on a sunny day. Her sea swept hair was barely tamed into a braid such that glossy strands still caught in her face when a salt-tinged wind blew past. She worried her plump bottom lip between her teeth before taking a hesitant step forward.

“-was just in the fishing net when I pulled it up. There! Look!” A thundering of footsteps echoed on the deck and Loki felt the vibrations of feet to deck contact against his cheek. Slamming his eyes shut Loki forced his body not to tense as he felt the suppressive weight of warm, curious bodies gazing down at him.

“Is he dead?” Someone nudged his left arm with a his boot.  
“Tony! Don’t do that!” The first voice said.  
“What? It’s a genuine question, Steve.” A man, presumably Tony, whined.

Steve and Tony then proceeded to bicker over the proper respect that should be shown towards the deceased. A hand grasped his shoulder gently and flipped Loki onto his back, roaming over his chest and neck, checking his vitals.

“He’s still alive.” The human announced softly. Steve and Tony quietened.  
“Oh. Ok, great. Now what?” Tony asked. There was a beat of quiet where the heavens decided to open and drizzle mournfully. Ah, so Thor has just heard of his escape.

“We throw it back into the sea.” A monotone female voice said from his right.

At this, the doctor, Tony and Steve all launched into a heated discussion.  
“What? No, no. We are not throwing a _person_ into the sea.”  
“Damn Nat, I knew you were cold but I didn’t know you-“  
“I what?”  
“Nothing! Nothing.”  
“Can everybody _please_ calm down? I’m getting a migraine.”

“ **What** is going on here?” A commanding voice bellowed from the top deck The crew fell silent immediately. “Unless you motherfuckers want to be scrubbing the deck for a week, someone better tell me what the fuck is going on! Line up!”

A flurry of movement and the pattering of scurrying feet joined the rhythm of the falling rain. Amusement bubbled in Loki’s chest. Truly, this was the most fun he has had in ages. Lying naked on the deck of a human ship, posing as one of their kind? While his brother’s grief pattered around him? Much better entertainment than the stone walls of his cell.

A distance away, a grumble of thunder rolled through the previously clear night sky. The gentle rocking of the boat combined with the soothing splash of cool rain on his skin was almost pleasant. If it were not for the corruptivity that hung in the air like the stink of rotting fish, Loki would say he was enjoying himself. Then again, complaining about corruption would be rather hypocritical.  
He was enjoying himself.

“Report!” The captain commanded.  
“I was pulling in the latest haul and he was in the net, sir.” Steve said.  
“Is he alive?”  
“Yes. His vitals are weak but stable.” The doctor replied.  
“Captain, I advise we throw it back into the sea.” The woman said.  
The captain gave a small sound of consideration before barking out his orders.  
“Romanoff, Stark. Rid of the body.”

The woman’s, Romanoff’s, hands grasped him under his shoulders while the other lifted him by the ankles. Loki found it surprisingly amusing that the lady seemed to be having less trouble with his weight than the man.

He braced himself for the sensation of falling into the ocean’s open arms… but it never came. Another female voice interjected.  
“Wait! Stop. You can’t just do this.”  
“Why not, Lewis?” the Captain growled.  
“Y-you just can’t.

“What do you suggest then, madam? We nurse him back to health? We call the authorities?” The captain began walking around the ship, his boots landing heavily upon the wooden deck. “I have 21 people on this vessel, Lewis. Twenty one. If you consider supplies and space, we are just going by. I cannot afford to have any injured and useless personnel whom will be nothing but _dead_ weight. And I doubt any of you are willing to take responsibility for this gentleman. Am I right, crew?”

“Yes, Captain.” The crew chorused.  
“I’ll do it.” Lewis said. “I’ll take the responsibility.”

The moment froze in the air as the captain weighed her words.  
“Done. Romanoff, bring him to Lewis’ sleeping quarters. The rest of you, back below deck. Lewis, a word.”

* * *

 Romanoff slung Loki over her shoulder with surprising ease. He could feel suppressed danger and strength practically radiating off her. Deadly confidence was pronounced in every step of her gait. She was a seasoned sailor, then.

Still trying to remain as limp as possible, Loki allowed himself to be flung rather unceremoniously into a hammock. Perhaps this adventure was to be prolonged. No matter, not even Odin would think to search for him on a human ship.

“Drop the act. I know you’re conscious.” Romanoff said.

She was good. Loki smirked and opened his eyes, allowing himself to take in his surroundings. He was in a secluded corner near a cleaning supply closet, settled upon a rope hammock strung between two beams. He could hear the other crew members not too far away, laughing over something. Romanoff was leaning against one of the beams, playing with a small dagger that flashed in and out of sight between her fingers. She had short, coral red hair which curled neatly to the nape of her neck. She donned a loose fitting white shirt that hung off her frame like clouds in the sky. Black cotton pants paired with brown worn boots completed the ensemble. Romanoff was staring at him with a calculative intensity. He returned the gaze.

“I know what you are.” She said.  
“Oh? What am I?” Loki mocked, folding his arms behind his head. “Until you have proof, you are but words.”  
“Make one slip up and I will be behind you.” She said, suddenly sheathing her blade.

Romanoff produced some clothes from Odin knows where and chucked them at him.  
“Get dressed. Lewis is not as comfortable with nudity as I am. Lay a finger on her and you will regret it.”

She stalked out the door.


	2. All Hands On Deck

That night, Loki put on his new clothing (a faded, brown cotton top which was made rough from seawater washing and scratchy grey pants) and let the excitement of the day ebb away to exhaustion. He woke just before sunrise and took the time to contemplate his curious situation.

Loki had never felt truly at home in Atlantis, yet a sliver of his heart yearned still to swim through those golden halls. He had left behind his darkness, his daily torture, yet he had also left his home. Suddenly, Loki felt rather tired.

An abrupt clanging shattered his reverie, catching him off guard. Startled, he shot up in the hammock, causing his center of gravity to shift and the hammock to veer to one side. He landed on the ground in an undignified heap.  
“Up! Everybody up! Get out of your hammocks before I pour seawater in them.” Someone yelled, hitting two metal pots together.  
“Shut up, Quarter. We’re up!” Tony groaned.  
“Morning, Coulson.” Steve yawned.  
“Coulson? Who’s Coulson? His name is ‘Quarter Master’.

Something squirmed from beneath Loki and he realised the floor was softer than it should be. And that he was not on the floor.  
“Urghhh. Getoffme! Heavyy!!!”  
Loki leapt off the floor, looking at the ocean-eyed woman curiously.  
“Why were you sleeping on the ground?”  
“You were in the hammock and I didn’t want to disturb you.” She shrugged, standing up and stretching. Loki forced his gaze to remain on her face.

“Feeling better?” She asked, making her way to the nearby cleaning supply closet.  
Loki nodded slowly.  
“Great! Captain Fury would kick you off the boat if you didn’t work. Come, I’ll show you what to do.” She said excitedly, shoving a bucket and rags at him.

“Oh yeah, name’s Darcy.”  
“Loki.”

* * *

 

The rest of Loki’s day comprised of cleaning the entire ship with Darcy. She was a peculiar human, that one. He barely needed to utter a word for she managed to carry the conversation on her own, only needing the occasional nod to prompt her into rambling off again. By late afternoon, Loki had learnt much of the ship and her crew.

The ship’s name was Hell Carrier and was one of the many in a fleet owned by an organisation called SHIELD. Captain Fury was at the head of this pirate vigilante organisation whose goal was to fight back against the corrupt navvy government, Hydra. The war has been ongoing for a total of 12 years and Captain Fury believes that Hydra is preparing to strike again soon with a new form of warfare.

Everyone on the Hell Carrier was one breed of misfit or another. The most intriguing set of backstories, however, lay upon the Captain’s core group, also the people whom had rushed out to his “unconscious” body.

Tony Stark was a wealthy inventor from the South who was targeted by Hydra for his ingenious inventions and the threat he poses. After a failed assassination attempt, Tony took it into his own hands to retaliate against the corrupt government, attracting the attention of SHIELD. To keep him alive and have the upper hand of weaponry against Hydra, SHIELD accepted Tony into their ranks where he continuously invented and reinvented their artillery to be better, faster, stronger.

Bruce Banner was the ship’s doctor and carpenter. He had been a renowned healer in his village, working wonders with herbs and brews. It was said that the Quarter Master, Coulson, had gone to him for aid while on a mission in the area. Some say that he had been harpooned straight through his chest by a Hydra minion. Some say he died and Banner resurrected him. Loki doubted it. More likely, the tale had been extravaganded to legend. Once Coulson had recovered under Bruce’s care, he decided to recruit the soft spoken doctor for his amazing skill. Upon knowing the good cause, Bruce readily accepted.

Steve Rogers was a regular sailor but he was an honorary member of the core team. When Loki saw him, he thought the man was in danger of being blown away by the sea gale. But Darcy reprimanded Loki not to underestimate the man on his scrawniness. Steve apparently had a muscular disorder which caused his strength to continually diminish if not maintained. He could not build muscle, but the physical activity being part of a crew ensured he remained healthy. He had a particularly strong character; confident, righteous, stern yet kind, a leader despite his disability. Steve had always wanted to contribute to the greater good but was continually rejected by the army for his condition. SHIELD readily welcomed him for his eye for military tactics.

Clint Barton was a child when he was kidnapped by gypsies to perform in a circus. There, he learnt his skill with acrobatics and aim. Now, he could fly through the rigging like a trapeze and rain down knives with deadly accuracy. Rumour has it that the gypsy group he was in was in cahoots with Hydra and he had been sent to assassinate Coulson himself but the Quarter Master made a different call.

“What about the red head?” Loki asked, emptying a bucket of dirty water off the side of the boat.  
“Natasha?” Darcy grinned. “Well, no one knows anything about her. Some say she was part of Hydra but had done something against her superiors then had come running to SHIELD. Don’t ask her though, she’ll cut you. Ask anyone else, and the story changes everytime. Once I heard she stole some important documents. Another time I heard she murdered her officer. Tony told me she had an affair with the Red Skull. No one knows.”

“The Red Skull?”  
“Oh, that’s the head of Hydra. We don’t know his real name but that’s the pseudonym he goes by.”

By the end of the day, Loki felt sore in places he did not know could experience soreness. Darcy was laughing at him as he winced while settling down next to her. He gave her a scowl in return.  
“Here.” Darcy said, offering a bowl of grey porridge to him. He took the offered meal and wolfed it down, grimacing at the foul taste.  
“If you wished to rid of me you don’t need to poison me, you could have just let me be thrown off the ship.” Loki glared at the bowl’s contents as if they had lied to him about his parentage. Darcy laughed again, slapping his arm.  
“If you don’t want it, I’ll eat the rest of it.”

Loki spooned the rest of the muck into his mouth.

* * *

 

There was something about her.  
Something that Loki could not quite place. Something that he found he quite liked. Perhaps it was the way her laugh chattered through the sea of corruptivity like a merry dolphin, or how her wild brown hair refused to be tamed, or how she would stare at him from the corner of her eye when she thought he was not looking. She was a lighthouse in the dark. A star through the clouds. A gust of sea breeze in the summer.

Loki found that he liked her, a lot.  
After dinner they washed and kept the dishes while the rest of the crew headed below decks to rest. They fell into an easy silence awash with the waters of companionship. Loki felt the same as when he was a mere fry and was hiding in the kelp forest, waiting for Thor to find him. There was the same feeling of anticipation of something inevitable he himself was unsure of. The same emotion of belonging so strongly somewhere like a crab to a shell. Loki knew he was on the brink of something, something that had to do with the beautiful human woman scrubbing fiercely away at a bowl.

After their chores, Darcy blew out the candles in the kitchen and padded her way softly out to the deck. She made a show of acting stealthily, peeking round a mast and making hushing sounds.  
“Follow me.” She whispered before taking off to scale the shroud attached to the foremast.

Intrigued, yet aching, Loki placed an unsure hand on the rope.  
“Come on!” Darcy smiled, starlight catching on her blue irises as she gazed down at him. The wind tumbled through her hair and she swept it back impatiently.  
Loki started climbing.

The muscles in his new legs and arms throbbed in protest but the urging of his heart spurred him on. Here, he was a hopeless sailor drawn into the siren’s allure. Quite an ironic situation, honestly. Darcy had reached the top of the shroud and waited for him with one hand on her hip.  
“Slowpoke.” She teased before swinging the blue scarf she wore around her hip onto the overhead rope and gliding down, down, down like a falling angel to land near the tip of the bowsprit.

Loki realised his mouth was open and he snapped his jaw shut. The intimidating height brought a storm to settle in his gut. The figure of Darcy below gestured frantically for him to come down. Alright. This would just be like breaching. No problem.

Loki undid the belt around his waist and swung it onto the rope, taking a deep breath to steel his nerves and…  
Maybe this was not such a good idea afterall.  
A moth fluttered at his ear and Loki shook his head to chase it away. Unfortunately, he also shook off his grip on the rope. Having legs was difficult.

He held his breath as he flew down to the bowsprit, eyes wide and jaw clenched. Loki managed to land somewhat gracefully, preserving at least some of his dignity.  
“About time. What? Did you get scared?” Darcy teased, walking over to extend an arm to Loki. He accepted it and hauled himself from his crouch.  
“No. It was easy.”

“ _Riiiiight._ ” Darcy smiled, turning on her heel and stretching her arms out to aid in her balance as she neared the tip of the bowsprit.  
At a wide enough point, Darcy settled down onto the structure, pressing her chin onto the wood with her arms and legs straddling it. Loki settled down behind her, sitting straight. He gave into the urge to run his fingers through her tangled locks and she obliged, sitting up too so that he did not have to strain his arm. Her dark curls were soft and thick but as tangled as they seemed. Loki spent some time trying to smoothen out the knots in her tresses. (After an adventure with Thor, Loki’s hair always seemed to get tangled by the currents. Mother would settle him onto her lap, chiding him gently while working out the knots.)

The crashing of the waves, trickling of the tide, whisper of the wind, cawing of a bird filled up the silence between them.  
“You get a clear view of the sky and sea from here.” Darcy explained after awhile. “Plus I get to feel like I’m flying over the oceans.”

Loki tore his attention away from the woman to find she was right. It was the same roiling black sea, gently caressing the star studded sky. Yet it was not. The ocean seemed to bend its will to the ship, parting and running past them. The starlit sky outlined the silhouette of Darcy, drawing constellations into her eyes. The stars themselves fell into the water, shining merrily from the depths of the sea while their twins stayed hung in the night.

Right there, right then, Loki felt his instincts whisper a secret to his soul, softly brushing his heart like an unseen current.  
No, not yet. Not her. She deserves better.


	3. The HYDRA Strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hammock :p

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot thickening recipe:  
> 1) add a tablespoon of tension  
> 2) add a pinch of action  
> 3) add a cup of cliff hang-OH SHIT! TOO MUCH TOO MUCH!

“Loki?” Darcy asked, braiding her newly untangled hair to the side.  
“Yes?”  
“How did you get here?”

A sudden warmth settled on the crown of his head as the gears in his mind whirred into overdrive. He took stock of his situation as seen from another’s eyes, his appearance, his profile.  
“I…I escaped from a ship of slaves. I thought I was going to drown but the next thing I know is, I’m here.” Loki answered easily, adding a mild tremor to his voice for effect.

Darcy tugged his arms from around her waist to examine his left wrist. She traced around the red and scarred ring of flesh with a gentle finger.  
“Is that what gave you these?”

No. He had been chained to a rock and had sea serpents leech their toxins into the water around him, their poison searing his flesh in unbearable agony, the venom seeping into his gills making every breath of poisoned water a torment in itself.  
“Yes.” Loki replied.

“What of you, Darcy? I recall your statement of every being on the Hell Carrier being a lost soul.” Loki decided to steer the conversation into safer waters, lest she dive too deep and uncover the truth. Darcy must never know.  
“Me? Oh, not much really. My father died from an illness and my mother killed herself from grief. I was shipped off to an orphanage at 16 where I met Jane. We ran away from the place at 19 because… let’s just say it was a terrible place, and we were trying to make it on our own for a while. Then Jane almost drowned when she fell into the harbour and she went missing for a whole day. I found her sitting at the beach and she was never the same afterwards. She got an obsession with the sea and won’t stop studying it. Then Coulson found us and decided Jane’s skill at keeping an eye on the horizon would be useful and here we are.”

Loki blanched. Jane. Could it be? But the world is such a large one, surely not. And yet…  
“How long ago was Jane’s misfortune?”  
“Uhh, I think it was 2 years ago? I’m not too sure, being at sea makes me lose track of time.”

2 years. It was her. Oh dear, the ocean is a pond it seems. What a twist of cruel fate that Loki be kept on a boat with the very woman whom had captured his brother’s heart. This ship just kept getting more and more interesting with every stone he unturned.

After the stars themselves had begun to wink out and the companiable silence became punctuated with sleepy yawns, Loki and Darcy crept down below deck to the sleeping quarters. Or, Loki crept and Darcy tried to keep silent but tripped over a loose board with a muffled “Oh fuck!”.

Either way, they made it to the sleeping quarters without incident until they came before the single hammock slung between the banisters in a mocking grin. Loki stretched his aching body upon the cradle of rope, exhaustion from the day seeping into his bones and dragging his eyelids down. Darcy shuffled to the cleaning supply closet and produced a bundle of cloth.  
“Oh, don’t mind me. Just gonna… you know, sleep here on the comfy floor. You can go back to sleep.”

Loki, too tired to put up with her passive aggressive hinting, merely uncrossed his arms from his chest and murmured a low “Comere then.”  
He watched in amusement as Darcy fist pumped happily before easing herself to drape across his frame, cheek pressed above his heart. The hammock was swaying haphazardly so Loki wrapped his arms around Darcy’s form, resting his chin on her head. The hammock’s sway began to rhythm to the ship’s own gentle tossing, the ropes singing lullabies into the night. Somewhere away, someone was snoring.  
“Sleep well, Darcy.”  
The girl was already drifting away.

* * *

 

Loki woke to the sound of splintering wood and explosions.  
“All hands on deck! All hands on deck! We are under attack. I repeat, we are- SON OF A BITCH.” The Captain’s furious orders was interrupted by gunshots screaming through the air.

Rough hands tore a dazed Darcy from the safety of Loki’s embrace. Their assailant was a burly and a rather ugly sailor. A scar marred down his left eye and his lower jaw jut forward in an eternal sneer. Loki took all of this in while lunging out of the hammock with a strangled, “Darcy!”

The woman in question was struggling against the man for all she was worth, kicking, wriggling and screaming. A glint of steel flashed in his hand and before Loki knew what had happened, he had rushed at the man, knocking him to the ground.  
“Backup! I need backup!” He yelled before Loki silenced him with a twist to the neck.

Two more men came barrelling below deck, one bearing a cutlass the other a scimitar.  
“Stay back!” Loki commanded to Darcy, swiping up the dead assailant’s dagger from where it lay on the floor.

The men charged at him and Loki took aim with the dagger, flinging it straight into one’s neck. Then he ducked as the man slashed his cutlass at the air he had been moments ago. The blade got caught in the beam of wood, refusing to budge and Loki smirked triumphantly. Except, the burly man abandoned his weapon entirely, opting instead to hurl himself onto Loki, a hand tight on his throat.

Black spots began to dance across Loki’s vision and he cursed the inefficient human anatomy. But without warning, Darcy stabbed a sphere with a needle attached into the man’s neck and he released his grip entirely. The puny weapon was hardly efficient though, for the man only seemed enraged, plucking it from his flesh.

Except, foam began to froth in his mouth and the man lurched forward like the possessed. His eyes rolled back into his head and Loki just watched in morbid fascination as he began quivering across the floorboards like untied furniture during a storm. When the agonised cries had finally died away, Loki looked up in stunned awe at the seemingly defenceless girl before him.

“Snake venom.” She replied, sounding quite distraught. “It’s a one-off though. So we better get going.”

The upper deck was a hurricane of chaos.  
It was a cacophony of clashing metal punctuated by echoing gunshots and grunts of pained exertion. The deck was slippery with red-tinged sea water, the scent of copper mingling with salt, hanging like a gruesome curtain, fluttering in the morning air.

Loki caught sight of some of the crew members he was familiar with, flitting through the fray.  
Clint was perched on the crow’s nest, fending off enemies that tried to scale the structure whilst a frightened Jane huddled to the mast. A grappling hook breached through the air, glimmering like a silver flying fish before latching onto the side of the crow’s nest. Clint severed the rope before the woman climbing it could reach the top, causing her to plummet through the air and land on the ground where she remained.

A flash of red on the other side of the ship drew his attention to Natasha who appeared to be a dancing blur of blades and blows. Men and women alike fell in droves at her feet, some thrown overboard with a yell. Suddenly, her eye’s made contact with his as she unblinkingly slit the throat of an enemy. A shudder raked its nails down Loki’s spine.

The Captain and his First Mate were on the upper deck, fighting back to back, covering each other in a seamless partnership. (Loki and Thor, the greatest team in Atlantis. They who felled the mighty Kraken, they who knew the other scale for scale, strike for strike. They fought back to back with each other, covering each other in a seamless partnership.)

Steve, the scrawny little boy, was fending off the foes with surprising vigour. With a buckler strapped to his arm, the boy pummelled and slashed. That was, until a man with a hook as a poor replacement for a hand deflected one of his blows and disarmed him with the hook, twisting the buckler and forcing Steve to kneel lest break his arm.

The boy looked up at his adversary, eyes wide and mouth open.  
“Bucky?”

The click of a rifle being cocked pricked Loki back to his own situation. The barrel of a gun was aimed right at Darcy and Loki swept her up in his arms, pushing her into the hull to shield her with his body. The bullet sunk its teeth into the flesh of his right shoulder. His knuckles clenched onto the wood, whitened like beach sand as he cried out in pain.

“Fire in the hole!” Tony yelled from somewhere, sounding tinny and far away.

* * *

 

There was once in Loki’s childhood when he had snuck away from Atlantis to spy on the human world. He had overheard a human mother telling her offspring a tale about how the seashells each contained a piece of the sea.  
“The sea is their home. So even if you take them out onto land, the sea is still in them. Listen closely,” She had said as she pressed a conch shell to the girl’s ear, “the waves are still crashing inside it.”

Loki had thought that incredulous, waiting till the girl and her mother had left to pick up the shell they left behind. The roaring in his ear was not that of the ocean, but that of the blood in his veins.  
_Humans_ , he had scoffed, _so ignorant and dumb_.

Now, Loki was reminded of that distant memory as the blood in his ears roared to a crescendo. Uncomfortable heat washed over him and the last thing he remembers before blackness like squid’s ink clouded his vision, was falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, that took awhile. Sorry, I've been busy.  
> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it.  
> Do comment/kudos/share if you think me worthy.  
> Any and all constructive criticism is always welcome.  
> Till next chappy!
> 
> Love,  
> Trin


	4. Mermaid's Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Yes I am not dead. Sorry for being gone so long. I'm going through some stuff.  
> Anyway, I wrote a 3000 word chapter with smut as an apology. Please forgive me.
> 
> Read and enjoy!  
> Trin

Everything had come undone. Loki was weighted to the floor by his own limbs.  
An irritating ringing screeched into his ears, making his head hurt. The world was a mess of smudged colour, grey static lurking at the corners of his vision and he felt like he was spinning. Why was he spinning?

“Loki…” Someone called his name from far away, barely audible over the white noise assaulting his eardrums.

There were hands on him now, small tiny things that felt their way up his arms to shake him by the shoulders. The entire ground seemed to shake with him, rotating and lurching and he let his eyes fall shut, willing everything to cease listing.

“Loki…” The voice called again, hands now wandering up his neck.  
A sharp blow to his cheek snapped his head to the right, eyes flying open, vision in focus, the ringing ebbing away.

“Loki!” Darcy yelled in his face.  
She sat straddling his chest, bent over him with her curls tickling his exposed skin. The deck above them had been thoroughly destroyed, a hole blown straight through, such that the afternoon sun fell past the first deck like a spotlight in the darkness of the hold. It filtered through Darcy’s hair, turning the chocolate locks a hazel brown.

“Oh thank god.” Darcy’s hands flew to her mouth before she promptly collapsed onto Loki’s chest, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck. “Don’t scare me like that! I swear I will kill you if you die.”

Loki blinked away the remaining stars from his vision.  
“You…You slapped me…?”  
“Yes, I did.” Darcy laughed out a sob, arms moving to hug Loki.

That was when his body decided to remind him that he had just been shot. His nerves was gasoline, the wound; the match. Up and down his body raged the fire, pain washing over him in a mockery of the comforting waves. His entire shoulder seemed to wail in agony and Loki contained a yell behind gritted teeth.

“I’m fine!” He protested against Darcy’s advance to aid him.  
“Sure, you’re entirely fine. Its not like you’ve got a bullet in your shoulder!”

Still straddling a weakened Loki, it was only a matter of time before Darcy’s hands found his wound.  
“Loki…what?”  
“Get off!”  
Stricken panic tightened like a noose around his throat and he pushed the girl off his chest to put some distance between them. Her hands were sticky with his blood, blue smeared onto her shaking palms. With her legs splayed on the ground, she stared with disbelieving eyes at him.

“Loki…? You-“  
“Darcy, I can explain.”

Forcing himself upright on unstable legs, Loki leaned heavily onto a nearby barrel. A weighted emotion anchored itself inside his lungs, forcing all the air out along with his last remaining hope.

“You-You’re-Uh.” Darcy gaped.  
“I can explain!” Loki said, hoping that he could indeed explain.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, another gunshot echoed in the air, the bullet embedding itself into the wood just to the left of Darcy’s ear. She squealed and dropped to the ground, arms bracing themselves on her head.

“Check the hold for valuables then scram!” A garbled voice commanded.  
“Defend the hold!” Natasha shouted from above.

The exchange was followed by a flurry of consecutive gunshots, as if a hundred guns were firing one after another.  
“Eat bullets, HYDRA scum!” Tony yelled.  
Two bodies dropped through the hole in the deck, landing crouched in the shadows of the hold. There was a muscular man, bearing a bloody cutlass and a woman, long hair braided down her back, wielding a dagger in each hand.

“Darcy, get behind me!” Loki shouted, pushing his agony away to fend off the pirates.  
The man slashed at Loki, missing his abdomen by a hair’s breadth as he jumped back just in time. Loki ducked down to slide between the man’s legs, kicking the woman away from a frightened Darcy. A blow landed on his wounded shoulder and pain wrecked his limbs, body crumpling to the ground.

The woman sneered over him, dagger snapping to his chest. Loki stopped the blade just in time, seizing her wrist and twisting the blade out of her fingers. He snatched up the knife and rolled them so that it was now he above her. Dagger poised, she was as good as dead until the man grabbed Loki to slam him to the floor, injured shoulder first.

His vision had gone a blinding white, pain searing out any other sensory. He feel his pulse at his wound, throbbing in pain. And still, the only thought that possessed his consciousness was _to protect Darcy, he has to protect Darcy._

He pried his eyes open, struggling upright only to be kicked down again. His vision cleared a tad when his head collided with the floor to reveal a scene which made anger wash over him like the tide, clearing away everything else.

The woman had Darcy pinned against the wall, a knife to her throat and unheard interrogations falling from her lips.

“Don’t.” He growled. “Put your weapons down. They are useless to you.”  
The pirates’ eyes glazed over, obliging obediently.  
“ _Listen to my voice. Step away from the girl. She is useless to you. Everything is useless to you. Life is useless to you.”_

Loki rose to circle the pirates, voice like poisoned honey.  
“ _You are but a dispensable pawn in someone else’s plans. You are so tired. Not to fear, I have a place for you to rest.”  
“Listen to me. I can help you find a new life, something better, to free you from yourself.”_

Their mouths were agape, fully submerged in his spell. A thrill ran through his veins and he could not help but smile. Oh, he had missed this.  
“ _Return to your hovel and let your ship find peace under the waves. Trust me. You want to help others find purpose too, don’t you? This is your new purpose.”_

Loki stroked the length of the woman’s braid.  
_“Leave.”_

He watched them climb back onto the battlefield calmly, now unafraid of death. When their silhouettes had gone into the sunlight, exhaustion and relief claimed Loki’s body, dragging him down to rest.

 

* * *

 

When Loki came to, he was slung uncomfortably in his hammock, a damp cloth on his forehead and a melody drifting through the air.  
“… And bound her in her bones  
The seas be ours and by the powers:”

Darcy twirled a distance away, hair tumbling down her back, a mop in hand. She swayed with the rocking of the waves, entranced in her own song. She seemed to dance as she cleaned, spinning round the mop like a dance partner.  
“Where we will, we’ll…”

Her song was cut short as she spun to face him. He had been staring intensely at her, unable to look away. Loki flicked his gaze up to the ceiling.  
“Oh. Hi. How’re you feeling.”  
“Much better, thank you.”

A seagull squawked somewhere out to sea. Darcy balanced the mop into the nearby bucket before padding her way to him. She ungracefully sat herself down on the floor before him and cold dread slithered itself into Loki’s heart.  
“I patched up your shoulder. Not sure how long it would take to heal though. Could be a month, maybe two.”  
“I see.”

It had been but a few days of happiness a haven, a place where Loki felt as if he could finally carve a place for himself. He was a fool to think he could ever belong anyplace. An utter imbecile to let himself get comfortable and… and get attached to a human.

Loki could deny it no longer. She was his moon and the waters of his being rose in earnest to meet her. Instinct made it a longing etched into his genes to protect, to mark her, make her his. Sentiment made it an impulse to stay by her side, want to steal her every breath. Even now as she fiddled with the hem of his shirt, Loki’s skin tingled with the brush of her finger.

This was not good.

“I…” Darcy hesitated, “You…Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“Was there a need for you to know?”

Darcy’s head snapped up to glare at him furiously, fingers retracting their patternless waltz across his forearm. He found he missed her touch.  
“Of course I need to know, ohmygod! You can’t just hide something like that. You can’t just” Darcy lowered her voice in a truly bad imitation of his speech, “Hello, I am an attractive male person who is going to spend a lot of time with you and get really close with you. I just forgot to mention that I’m _an entirely different fucking **species**!”_

She drove her point in with a jab to his chest, breathing out in unhappy puffs.  
“Were you ever planning on telling me?”  
“No.”

Something snapped in Darcy and she shot off the floor, pivoting on her heel to storm out the sleeping quarters to the deck above. She was beautiful in her fury, cheeks flushed and hair billowing out like storm clouds.  
Perhaps this was why hurricanes were so often named after women.

Darcy was now Loki’s storm, the lightning strike to his soul. He will hurt, oh yes, far more than he has ever- but it will be worth his while.  
It is better for her this way.

 

* * *

 

The night was chilly, and the warmth of the quarters seemed such the more inviting but Loki kept his will strong, his decision firm.  
The crew was asleep, as was his Darcy. He had watched her drift off into slumber, voluptuous chest evening out in its rising and falling, the crease between her brows occasionally folding as she dreamt. He had watched her all day, trying to memorise every aspect of his Darcy.

She was too loud laughter and bad jokes, untamed hair and fumbling feet, diligent work and floating melodies. She stole betrayed  glances and frustrated bitten lips his way. No matter, it is better for her to hate him.

After Loki determined her sleep was deep enough (after he had gathered enough strength to tear himself away), he padded above deck.  
The sky was diamond sprinkled cotton, stars peeking through the grey swirls of clouds. A night breeze bit through Loki’s thin clothes, sweeping his hair up into a salty gust.

The ship’s structures had been quite thoroughly destroyed, most of the masts damaged and one completely collapsed. The scent of explosives and blood still lingered in the air. The bird’s nest had completely fallen from the mast. Now half of it lay on deck like a bowl cut in half.

Loki peeled off his shirt, carefully avoiding his bandaged shoulder then stepped out of his pants. The bandage could stay, after all, it is better for the wound.   
(“Let me change your dressing.” Darcy said coldly. “Or your blue blood will start becoming visible.”  
Small hands, calloused fingers running their way on his skin. Practised motions and the smell of alcohol. The burn of it on the wound was almost as much as the searing heat of her palm steadied on his bicep. )  
Just over the railing, the sea churned her greeting, like a lost friend whose name you can’t quite remember. Strange, is it not? For a creature of the water to find home among land dwellers.

Loki hesitated, he was not sure for how long. The sea neither beckoned nor repelled, it just was.  
“Loki!” Darcy’s voice cut through the trance. “Loki…”  
She practically tackled him from behind, arms wrapping around his torso, face nestled into his back.

“Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, don’t go...” She muttered under her breath, arms getting impossibly tighter.  
“Darcy. Darcy!” Loki tugged at her arms. “Darcy, I have to.”

She shook her head no vigorously at his back.  
“No.”  
“Darcy, let me go.”  
“No.”  
“Darcy _, let me go_.”  
“I…” She stepped back for a moment, dazed, before snapping out of his song to snatch up his wrist, “No.”

Frustrated, Loki yanked on her arm, spinning her to pin her against the hull of the ship. Her back bent at an awkward angle, her body cornered by his. Loki could feel the puffs of her breath on his cool cheek. His words came out hushed and urgent.  
“Listen to me, Darcy. I do not belong here. I may have posed as one of you fools but I am not. I am worse than HYDRA, I am a creature of lore. Darcy, I lure good men to their deaths for fun. I have slaughtered my own kind. I am a sailor’s nightmare. I **will** hurt you.”

There was a beat between the moments where Darcy’s paradise blue eyes bore into him. She swallowed and Loki was prepared to watch her scurry away. Instead, she licked her lips and closed the small distance between their mouths.  
Stars connected into constellations, waters converged into seas. He staggered away from Darcy, fingers tingling in shock.

New emotions bubbled into him, some his and some hers.  
“Do you know what you’ve done?” Loki spat.  
Darcy looked utterly confused, clutching at her chest where her new bond has likely formed. Confusion, hurt, longing and love brewed into the back of his mind, alien and totally familiar. Love. _Love?_ **_Love!_**

The revelation both liberated and condemned Loki. He needed to leave, he wanted to stay.  
Darcy exhaled a watery laugh and the next thing he knows is her body wrapped around him, clutching like a sailor to a raft. Her arms wound their way around his neck to drag him down for another kiss. This time, a passion unlike any fuelled the searing heat of lips and tongue and oh how Loki longed to **burn.**

“Stop. Darcy, stop.”  
“What’s wrong?”  
They were pressed foreheads and recycled breaths, two halves of one whole. They were the horizon, where sky kissed the sea and no one could tell one from the other.  
“I will ruin you.” Loki whispered into the space which was theirs.   
The moment hung in the air and he swore his heart was clawing at his chest.  
“Then ruin me good.” Darcy beamed, splaying her palms across his bare chest and pushing till his shoulders met the wood of the mast.

Loki’s hands found their way to her hips, relief flooding through him and she tangled her fingers into his hair. Engaging in another kiss, Darcy tugged sharply at his hair, extricating a groan from him. The last of his control ebbed away and Loki spun them such that their positions were reversed, Darcy now the one cornered at the mast. She inhaled sharply before starting to giggle, grinding into his cock.  
“Like that, do you?”  
“Quiet, girl.” Loki growled, desire coursing through his veins. Loki dropped to his knees, smoothing his palms up her curves and bunching up her shirt, trailing his lips past the swell of her stomach to the valet of her breasts as he went. Over her head and to the floor went the coarse shirt. Loki ducked his head to nip at the soft skin of her neck. A sharp bite drew a soft gasp from her and he soothed the pain away with gentle kisses and teasing licks

Trailing his way down again, Loki lowered his knees to the deck whilst running a tongue over a nipple which peaked at his attentions. A soft thud drew his attention upwards where Darcy had thrown her head back against the mast, fingers tugging at his hair once more. He palmed the other breast in one hand whilst inching her pants down her legs with the other.

“Up.” Loki commanded, lifting a thigh onto his shoulder only to hiss in reminder of his injury.  
“You okay?”  
“Fine. Lift your other leg.”  
Finally in position, Loki braced an arm on the mast behind and succumbed to his desires.

Darcy tasted of sweet saltiness and musk, her walls slick and warm.  
“Ohmygod, oh…my…god…” she moaned as Loki circled her clit with his tongue.  
“Hush, my dear lest we be discovered.” Loki smirked against her flesh.  
“Yes, yes. Okay. Just… Please continue.”

Loki fucked Darcy out with his tongue, lapping and kissing and licking while she writhed in agonised pleasure, trying her best to dampen her sounds. Soon, tension coiled itself like a spring just on the edge of release. That was when Loki sat back on his haunches, watching lustfully as Darcy whined.  
“No, no. Y-you… you get back here and-“  
“Yes?” he grinned, rising and pulling her flush against him.  
“Tease.” She pouted, arms crossed to turn away from his kiss.

“Look at what you do to me, Darcy.” He ground the aching evidence of his arousal against her thigh, feathering his lips on her cheek. “I want you…” Loki breathed before capturing Darcy’s swollen lips in an emotional kiss. She ran her hands up his chest, to his shoulders, draping them around his neck to play with the length of his tresses.  
“I will be yours if you will have me.” Loki whispered, like the declaration was a secret meant only for her ears (it was).  
“Of course, you idiot. Now fuck me already.” Darcy nipped at his bottom lip playfully.  
“As milady wishes.”

Darcy wrapped her legs around his waist but the strain on his shoulder was too much so Loki lowered them gently to the deck. Aligning himself, he sunk into her tight, wet heat, stifling a groan into her hair. Loki began thrusting and Darcy raked her nails down his back, arching into him.  
“Faster, faster. Oh yesss…” She hissed, head thrown back in ecstasy.  
The column of her neck seemed irresistible so he sucked and nipped at the juncture where her heck meets her shoulder, ensuring she would be marked as his.

Darcy’s breath became erratic and soon the tension had returned. She snuck a hand between them to massage her clit and she went flying over the edge, moaning his name. The sensation of her orgasm was too much to bear. Pulling out as the waves crested to their peak, Loki experienced weightless bliss before slamming back into his body.

He had splattered himself onto Darcy’s thighs and his stomach. It was less than comfortable but Loki could do nothing more than lay, spent, beside Darcy, waiting for his breath to return.

“So… You’re staying right?” Darcy asked.  
Loki sighed and rolled his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, dearie!  
> Do comment/kudos/share if you think me worthy.  
> Any and all constructive criticism is welcome.
> 
> Also, this is the song Darcy was singing. I'm so in love with this cover.  
> http://haliameguid.tumblr.com/post/76614586743/me-and-the-legendary-paola-on-harmonies-did-a

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Do comment/kudos/share if you think me worthy.  
> Any and all constructive criticism is always welcome.  
> Till next chappy!
> 
> Love, Trin


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